Let The Dream Descend
by ILuvSnuffles805
Summary: An aspiring author has finally found inspiration: The infamous Phantom of the Opera. Determined to find out as much as she can, she secures a job at the newly restored Opera Populaire, only to find herself under this mysterious man's haunting spell...
1. Chapter 1

_**Let The Dream Descend…**_

_A/N: Hello everyone! I'm glad you're taking the time out to read my story! I've been experimenting with this idea for a while, and I finally decided to start writing… Hopefully it won't be abandoned (as many of my fanfics often are, unfortunately) I promise I will stick with it till the end and I'll TRY to update at least once a week! _

_By the way, Phantom of the Opera and all related characters belong to Gaston Leroux, Andrew Lloyd Webber, and Susan Kay. (Except Erik…he's mine, of course…:sigh: I wish)_

**Chapter One**

Amandine Laroque stood before the massive stone building, gawking at its imposing height. The edges of the stone had already begun to crumble; the corners appeared like long, serrated knives ready to strike at those who dared pass by. Moving slowly, the moon had begun to peek her pale face from behind a veil of clouds. Her gentle light played off the dusty windows so that they glowed like many pairs of accusing eyes, staring coldly at the street below.

Though newly restored, the Opera Populaire still held the air of mystery and dread that Amandine remembered so well. Visions of the flickering flames and smashing glass passed before her eyes as her ears were drowned with the sounds of screams. She shook her head, trying to forget, but it was useless. For almost a year, Amandine had tried to forget that night, but its memory had engraved itself within her mind, a constant reminder of the horrors this building once held…

**XXXXXX**

_"Amandine! Darling, you'd better hurry or we'll be late!"_

_"Just a moment, father!" Amandine replied, staring critically at her reflection. Her copper colored hair was pinned in an elegant bun at the base of her slender neck. A few stray curls had fallen out, but she left them-she knew her hair never liked to cooperate. Amandine's eyes traveled farther down as she gazed at the rest of her outfit. She wore a satin, rose-colored gown with a plunging neckline, which showed off her well developed chest. Her long arms were covered with delicate sleeves which tapered off to perfectly fit her slender wrists. Her lips were stained with a hint of red rouge and her almond-shaped green eyes were set off with a hint of lavender shadow._

_Though she had many male admirers, Amandine could not see what attracted them. She was far too tall - almost 5'9" and she felt her forehead was far too large for the rest of her face. The rest of her body was even worse, in her opinion. Though men found her curves to be appealing, she felt fat and bloated. At the age of 19, it was no longer an excuse to say that her body would sort itself out eventually; she was resigned to the fact that she would never look any better._

_With a sigh, she set off down the stairs to meet her parents. They were waiting for her at the bottom, smiling as she approached. Her mother, though short in stature, was far lovelier than herself. Jacqueline Laroque's hair matched her daughter's, but besides that, they looked nothing alike. Her features were soft and feminine and she never failed to keep up a youthful appearance. Amandine's father Philippe, on the other hand, was almost her exact likeness. They shared the same piercing green eyes and his features held a handsome hardness which practically mirrored his daughter's._

"_Ah, there she is!" Her mother reached out for her arm as they approached the front door. "You look lovely, dear." Her father whispered as they headed down the long walkway. Amandine could only nod politely as she lifted her skirts and entered the carriage. "We know how much you love the Opera, dear, so we knew you'd enjoy this. It's rumored that this is the first time this particular opera will ever be performed onstage!" Her mother was raving and getting excited again, a trait they both shared. Amandine smiled as her father turned to her as well. "Who knows, maybe the next time it is performed, you will be the beautiful star." He squeezed her hand gently._

_That was the reason her parents had decided to take her out that evening. After three years of harsh training, Amandine had finally graduated from a prestigious musical arts school for women. Her parents had convinced her to audition for a place at the Opera Populaire, and, after much consideration, she had agreed to do it. Her audition was to be held in a month's time._

_Her lips formed a soft smile at her father's comment. It was flattering to know how much her parents believed in her, but neither of them knew the truth. Yes, Amandine loved to sing, but only as a hobby. It had been her mother who had convinced her to enter the singing program; she had not made the choice herself. Amandine's true passion was writing. Since the age of 12, she had written short stories ranging from romances to adventures; the genre did not matter, as long as inspiration struck. She knew, however, that women authors were frowned upon in Parisian society. A secret wish ached in her heart. Oh, how she longed to be the author of an amazing novel! For years, that had been her dream, and for years she had secretly pursued it. Her parents would never approve, of course, but that never shattered her dreams. She was waiting for the day when she would reach an epiphany and hoped that she would find the perfect opera to be her muse._

_Perhaps this "Don Juan Triumphant" would be the one…_

_As the orchestra struck the first chords, Amandine could feel the tension within the audience and hear the soft groans of annoyance. Even her parents were shaking their heads at the sounds produced. Amandine, however, felt a passion as she never had before. This music, though admittedly ahead of its time, held such raw emotion and feeling within each note that her heart almost ached with the composer's secret pain. She checked her tasseled program for the composer's name only to find two letters: O.G. "Obviously a pseudonym", she thought._

_When the leading soprano stepped onto the stage to begin singing, Amandine was entranced. A secret jealously welled up inside her. If only she could sing with a fraction of the talent this woman possessed! It was as if God himself had sent one of his angels to earth. The lead tenor had been doing a mediocre job so far, but the soprano's purity and pure talent were more than enough to make up for it. Amandine's senses were clouded over with passion as she watched the story unfold upon the stage._

_Within a few minutes, however, Amandine sensed a change. When "Don Juan" re-entered the stage to seduce the lovely Amnita, the man's entire physique was different. No longer short and rather round, he was now tall and lean, yet slightly muscular. His movements as he slowly swished his cape were graceful and poised. His face was obscured with a black mask, so she couldn't be certain, but Amandine could have sworn that this was not the same man._

_As the beginning lines of "The Point of No Return" escaped his lips, Amandine knew- She had certainly died and gone to heaven. The voice which resonated through the silent theater was so ethereal and bewitching that Amandine was sure she was under a spell of some sort. If the soprano was an angel, then this was certainly God himself who had walked onto the stage. As the song reached its final crescendo, Amandine could feel a layer of perspiration form itself on her flesh. The pure passion, the fire of this song was the most amazing thing she had ever heard._

_But wait- the orchestra had stopped playing, yet that other-worldly voice continued to sing…certainly this was not part of the story. It was then that realization struck- this was no longer part of the opera, but she was now witnessing a real life confession of love and devotion. Tears formed slow trails down Amandine's ivory cheeks. Certainly the woman on stage would be just as touched by these beautiful words as she._

_But all at once, the dream was shattered and Amandine was left in the middle of a nightmare. When the mask was removed, Amandine found herself staring that the most horrifying sight she ever remembered laying eyes on. One side of the man's face was hideous and malformed. The sickly yellow skin was pulled over a mass of horribly twisted flesh. Small blue veins could be seen beneath the translucent layer of skin, pumping oxygen through this monster's body. _

_Caught up in the horror of the moment, Amandine failed to notice the twinkling of crystal above her. "RUN!" a man behind her shouted. Looking up, she saw the massive crystal chandelier rocking dangerously from its tether. Without looking back, Amandine ran towards the exit as an ungodly smash echoed behind her._

_From the street outside, in the protecting embrace of her parents, Amandine watched in horror as the beautiful Opera Populaire was ravaged by flames. Tears once again coursed down her soft cheeks as she thought of the people who had certainly perished in the flames. What on earth had happened? Who was that beautiful, yet terrifying man and why had he done this?_

**XXXXXX**

That was what Amandine was there to find out. Not long after, rumors had begun circulating about the Viscount de Chagny and his fiancé and their strange connection with the supposed "Opera Ghost". Supposedly it had been this man who had written the opera, killed the tenor, taken his place, dropped the chandelier, and abducted the lovely Christine Daae. Certainly exaggerated stories, but Amandine was prepared to find out the truth.

As it turned out, the Opera Populaire had decided to open its doors once more. Because so many of its former employees had chosen to quit, there were even more job slots open. Amandine had passed her audition a month ago and had obtained a role in the chorus. She was not the Prima Donna her parents had been hoping for, but now she had a perfect opportunity to get to know everyone… and learn as much information about the infamous "Phantom of the Opera" as she could.

Amandine had finally found her muse…and he lived in the catacombs beneath the Opera Populaire.

_A/N: Sorry that was so long… I got a bit carried away in my descriptions! LoL I tend to do that a lot, as you'll soon see, I'm sure! It's a bit of a slow beginning, but I assure you that it will only get better with time! I'm anxious to get some feedback, so please R&R!_

_-Amanda (Yes, I couldn't resist and used the French version of my name for the main character! Hehehe)_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: OH MY GOOD LORD! I AM **SO** SORRY! I DID NOT forget this story; I just had to let it go for awhile because my grades started slipping not long after I wrote this, so my free time was greatly limited. I now have an entire summer free, and I SWEAR to you that I will continue this, no matter what! (Well, unless no one reads it) Please don't think I'm some sort of mean, terrible author, because I'm not! Thank you to everyone who reviewed Chapter One, by the way! I hope that you will continue reading! Now, ON WITH THE STORY! (Finally lol)_

**Chapter Two**

Life in an opera house was far more hectic that Amandine had bargained for. Every morning she was expected to wake up promptly at 6AM to ensure her readiness for practice, which began at 8. After hours of warm-ups and general practicing, she had only three hours time to eat lunch and enjoy leisure time before evening rehearsals, which began at 4.

It was during this time that Amandine had an open opportunity to make idle chatter with her fellow performers and dig for information, as most of the attention during these hours was put on those with leading roles. During her first week at the Opera Populaire, Amandine was disheartened to learn that only a handful of the original staff remained: A couple of catty ballet girls; a quiet chorus girl named Raquel; the ballet mistress, Madame Giry; and her daughter, Meg. It appeared that everyone else was too frightened to stay.

According to the rumors she'd heard, Meg Giry was once Christine Daae's best friend and was still in contact with the now-Viscountess. Though somewhat reserved, Meg had a friendly face and a warm smile. The beautiful little ballerina seemed almost frightened to warm up to new people; she rarely spoke to anyone but her mother. Amandine knew that it would be a challenge, but this was certainly the best place to start.

Getting to _know_ the young Giry was one thing. Getting her to _open up_ was another. Hard as Amandine tried to befriend her, Meg seemed very reluctant to form a relationship with the outgoing new chorus member. Amandine was fairly certain that her sudden interest had given the girl several suspicions… many of which may not have been untrue. But if there was one thing Amandine was sure of herself for, it was this: she would NEVER give up. After almost two weeks of shy smiles and idle chat about the weather and rehearsals, she finally managed to break through the emotional barrier which separated them.

"Excuse me," Amandine turned to meet a pair of bright, eager eyes, staring at her hopefully from a frame of silky blond hair. Amandine's mouth curved slightly at the corners. "Yes?" Meg seemed to hesitate. "Um…well, I was just wondering if you'd like to come up to my room after rehearsal…for a cup of tea…" The smile on Amandine's face grew. "_Finally!" _she thought. "That sounds lovely!" Her reply sounded a bit too enthusiastic, but the young ballerina didn't seem to notice.

**XXXXXX**

"What's that?" Amandine asked. She gestured towards an already-open envelope which lay upon the oak desk. The two girls had spent many afternoons together and had finally formed a strong friendship. Amandine learned that Meg Giry was actually a very funny and outgoing girl, once you earned her trust. They now sat in the Giry's small apartment, sipping tea and gossiping, which is how their evenings usually went. The question was meant as simply conversational. She expected the usual girlish giggle, followed by an honest reply. What she did _not_ expect was for the girl's face to immediately lose its color and her speech to become quick and snappy.

"It's nothing." Meg quickly thrust the letter into the nearest drawer, closing it abruptly with a shaking hand. Amandine's soothing hand found Meg's shoulder. "It's okay. You can tell me." She gave an encouraging smile as her friend sighed and opened the drawer. "It's a letter." She whispered. "From a friend." She did not continue. Without thinking, Amandine said the first thing that came to her mind. "From Christine?" _"Damn!"_ She inwardly cursed herself, but was relieved when Meg appeared unperturbed.

"Yes, from Christine…I imagine you know everything, don't you? Everyone does…" she paused. "I'm sorry. I just don't like talking about it, except with my mother. It brings back too many memories…" her voice suddenly trailed off. Amandine felt a pang of guilt at her desire for information, yet she was unable to fight temptation. "How is she doing? Is she alright? After…what happened?" Without looking up from the letter in her hands, Meg nodded slowly. "She sounds so happy, Amandine! She's even told me that she's expecting a child…isn't that lovely?" Her deep blue eyes finally met Amandine's striking green ones. Even in the soft candlelight, the unshed tears in Meg's were unmistakable.

"What's wrong then? You said she sounded happy!" Amandine was dying to learn more. Meg stifled a sob as she continued. "Oh, she does! Every letter is so full of joy! And yet…she always asks…she always wants to know about…" She paused to sniff and shake her head, as if chasing some terrible thought from her mind. "Sometimes I worry, that's all. Sometimes I worry that she can't just let the past go…" Without warning, Meg's eyes widened, as if suddenly realizing what she had said.

The letter was once again thrust into the drawer as she hurriedly wiped her eyes. "I'm just being silly, that's all." She gave Amandine a reassuring smile. "Forget I said anything." Her eyes searched the room, as if looking for an excuse to change the subject. They fell upon the tea kettle, still full of hot water. "More tea?" she asked brightly. Amandine smiled slowly. "Yes, please." She held out her cup, her eyes unfocused. Truth be told, Amandine could care less about tea at the moment. Christine missed her teacher, that much she knew. It was obvious that Meg was not telling all that she knew. Still, it was a start.

That night, safe within her dormitory, after all the others had fallen asleep, she silently lit a candle beside her bed and took out a quill and a piece of parchment paper from beneath her bed. With only the single candle and the soft glow of the moon to light her way, she began to write. The candlelight flickered and danced over her determined face, giving her a somewhat ethereal glow. Her emerald eyes sparkled and shined with excitement and desire. Amandine truly appeared as a woman possessed…and maybe she was; Possessed with curiosity, a need, and a hunger for knowledge.

That night, she made her decision. Somehow, some way, she would meet this mysterious masked man in the flesh.

**XXXXXX**

Almost two months after she moved into the infamous Opera Populaire and two weeks before opening night of the theatre's first opera since "Don Juan", an even took place that would completely change Amandine's life. Whether it would be for better or for worse was yet to be determined.

It happened during evening rehearsals when Catalina Cousteau, the theatre's leading soprano, was performing her big aria from act three. While everyone was listening with rapt attention, they noticed another sound, from above. It was a chorus member's scream that caught the diva's attention. A stagehand had been balancing on a rafter when it had begun to creak and groan, most likely due to his weight. As he scrambled to climb off, the board snapped. The crowd below watched in horror as the stagehand _and_ immense rafter plummeted to the stage.

The stagehand lay to the side, unconscious with the rafter lying across his chest. Catalina was still conscious, at least. This was made apparent by her continuous shouts of pain and frustration. The intelligible words that were laced within her ceaseless groaning and crying seemed to indicate that her leg was injured. Upon further inspection by a doctor, it was confirmed: her leg was broken.

Left without a star and with the performance only weeks away, the managers decided that auditions to fill the role would take place the next day, in the stead of regular rehearsals. Many of the chorus girls giggled and gossiped at the idea, hoping that they would finally get their chance in the spotlight. Amandine was shocked to find herself secretly longing for the role as well. She had already gotten a bit of information out of the ballet girl…and it seemed that she was the only one willing to talk about any of the events from the previous year. It was useless to remain in the chorus any longer. Why not become the star her parents had always dreamed of? Surely that would not prevent her from working on her novel… maybe it would prove useful, in time.

The next morning dawned bright and early for Amandine. She was anxious to charm the managers with her voice. Of course, she was no Christine Daae, but she knew that, when she wanted to, she could out-sing all of the other chorus girls any day. It was required that those who wished to audition were to sing the famous aria, "Think of Me" from the opera's third act. Amandine heard whispers amongst her fellow singers that this opera, "Hannibal", was the very opera which made Christine Daae so famous. Somehow, this knowledge made Amandine long for the role even more.

When it was her time to sing, she found herself strangely at ease. _"I can do this"_ she reminded herself as the opening bars began to play. Just as she was about to sing, she heard a soft swish of fabric from the rafters above. She snapped her head up quickly, but saw no one. Shrugging it off, she began to sing with all the purity and clarity she could muster. She envisioned herself finally making her parents proud, bowing to a sea of admirers. Then she saw herself a mere year or two down the road, her novel being sold to countless people around the world. A world renowned opera star and novelist, her name would go down in history. Amandine was so lost in this fantasy that she barely noticed the piano stop playing, or the standing ovation given by the managers. Suddenly snapping back to reality, she smiled politely and stepped off the stage, proud of her performance.

After sitting through the other singers' auditions, Amandine was unsurprised to learn that she had secured the role. Monsieur Richard and Monsieur Gilles, the two new managers, informed her that, since she would be taking Catalina's place for a month or possibly more, she would be provided with a private room, rather than stay in the dormitory. Because Catalina had refused to give up her room, Amandine would be forced to choose her own from the others available. None were as large or nice as Catalina's, which also happened to be the only _new_ room… the others were dusty and had a musty smell from being left unused for so long. None had been touched by the flames of the fire.

Meg assisted Amandine in packing up her belongings to be brought to her new room. Amandine had picked it right away. It was small and quaint, but the moment Amandine walked inside, she felt a chill down her spine, but not an unpleasant one. She hoped to surprise Meg with her choice. As they approached the door to the room, Amandine noticed a flicker of uncertainty flash across the ballerina's face. When the door was opened, the flicker turned to complete expression. Meg walked through the door in front of Amandine, approaching the highlight of the room…the full-length mirror. It had been this which had initially attracted Amandine. It was the largest mirror she had ever seen and the gold frame and intricate detail were beautiful. Meg, however, stared at the glass with a look of fear and disbelief.

Finally, Amandine realized. This was _the_ room…Christine's room. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind, until now. But it was too late. She couldn't change her mind, now that she knew. Her friend turned around hesitantly. "Are you _sure_ this is the one you want?" It was obvious from her tone that she knew Amandine was well aware of what she meant. Amandine simply nodded in reply and glanced back towards the mirror, feeling as though another pair of eyes besides her own were staring back at her.

"Did she ever talk about it Meg? Did she ever mention how he was able to-" she was immediately silenced by her friend's face. She had definitely said too much. "I…I should go… let you get settled…" without looking Amandine in the eye, Meg left her alone with nothing but her thoughts and the imposing mirror.

**XXXXXX**

As Amandine prepared for bed that night, she felt the same chill run down her spine as it did earlier that day. She tried to shrug it off, but something just felt _wrong_. While heading for the door, prepared to find Meg for comfort, she heard a soft click from behind her. She stopped dead in her tracks and listened to the sliding of a panel and the sound of soft footsteps approaching her.

The breath did not leave her lungs as a large, leather-clad hand covered her trembling mouth. He was behind her. She could feel his strength and his power. It sent a thrill through her body, though she was unsure of whether or not it was the bad kind. A shudder ran through her veins. His lips were less than an inch from the soft flesh of her ear. A hard, yet strangely haunting voice whispered to her with controlled authority.

"I've been watching you for quite some time now, Mademoiselle Laroque. Do not think your prying questions have gone unnoticed." He paused for a moment, letting his words sink-in. "I need not remind you, my dear, that curiosity killed the cat. It would be a pity for a beautiful creature such as yourself to meet a similar fate."

It was all Amandine could do to repress a sigh. God, how could such a frightening, murderous creature make her feel like this? His words were harsh and threatening… and yet…

"It would seem that I have piqued your interest…as have you piqued mine. The Opera Ghost sees all, my dear. It would be quite foolish of you to attempt to revive the demons of the past while you wander in _my_ domain…"

Amandine was abruptly shoved forward and almost lost her balance. Her arms clutched the nearby wardrobe and she pushed herself upright just in time to hear another click from the mirror. She turned around slowly and brought her gaze to the shining glass which reflected the soft glow of her many candles. He was still there, on the other side. She could feel it. Her heart raced in her chest and her breath came out in sharp pants, but she never took her eyes off the mirror's smooth surface.

She had finally found her Phantom…or, rather, _he_ had found_ her!_

_A/N: Gosh, that was LONG! Sorry! I was going to wait until the NEXT chapter to bring in our little friend, but I just couldn't resist! Reviews are greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading! I swear I won't give up on this! Expect chapters weekly, at least!_

_-Amanda_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews, guys! They made my day. Apparently you guys like my chapter lengths…so I'll keep it at about the same length. Just as a warning, I'm notorious for finishing up my stories in under 15 chapters or less, so I like to keep things moving fast…_

_Oh yeah, and thanks for that comment, trisana! I've read far too many fanfictions where Erik falls for the girl in like 2.7 seconds… It'll be a while before we get to that point, I can assure you. Now, on with the story!_

**Chapter Three**

The next morning, Amandine lay in bed for what seemed like hours, staring at the ceiling. Her nose was still tinged with the smell of leather and her ears still rang with the sound of that beautiful voice. She finally let a sigh escape her lips. At last, she had found the man she was looking for… and yet she hadn't even seen his face! Could she even be sure it was real? Maybe she had dreamed the whole thing…Without getting up from the bed, she reached into the drawer of her bedside table and took out her parchment and quill. Furiously, she began jotting down all of yesterday's events, the memories still fresh within her mind. She remembered it all to well for it to have been a dream. The chill that traveled down her spine as she glanced at the huge pane of glass was her confirmation.

**XXXXXX**

Amandine had thought that her schedule was hectic before, but after being given the starring role, she found herself longing for the way things used to be. The rehearsal hours remained the same, but the style of practicing was not. During every rehearsal, all the attention was put her as she was forced to sing the same arias and scales again and again. Her only moments of rest were when the other stars were put through the same treatment, though theirs' seemed to take much less time. Though she had passed her audition with ease, Amandine found her voice becoming weaker and weaker after each bout of heavy practicing she subjected it to. She tried to smile thorough it and do her best, but she knew in her heart it was doubtful that she would be able to pull it off without a miracle.

Four days after she took Catalina's place, Amandine was finally given a full day off to rest her voice. Since Meg was still expected to attend morning rehearsals, Amandine spent the first half of her day lying on her bed, daydreaming and stealing occasional glances at her mirror. Growing anxious and tired of being alone, she decided to venture from her room and watch the end of rehearsals. She wandered silently towards the backstage area, her soft footsteps the only thing that broke the silence. The hallways were completely void of life and the thought gave Amandine an unpleasant feeling in the pit of her stomach. Quickening her pace, she finally found herself within sight of the stage area. She happily welcomed the sound of a cane striking wood as the ballet mistress scolded one of her dancers. Amandine knew it could not have been Meg; she knew better than to displease her mother.

Within ten minutes, Amandine was greeted with a wide smile from her friend. She hurried forward to assist the girl in removing her uncomfortable shoes. "Enjoying your day off?" Meg asked without looking up. She began undoing the ribbons on her left shoe. "Not really, to be quite honest," Amandine replied with a sigh, "I've been waiting to get a chance to speak to you! We haven't had a proper conversation for days!" The young ballerina smiled as she handed Amandine her first slipper, grateful for the help. "Well, it's been busy lately… for both of us." Meg's eyes traveled towards Amandine's face. "How's your new room? Are you…_adjusting_ well?" her voice was barely above a whisper.

Amandine bent forward and spoke softly. "Actually, Meg, I'd been meaning to talk to you about something…ask a few questions, you know…" Fear and uncertainty flashed across Meg's sapphire eyes. "Is it about…" She let the question hang. Amandine gave her a meaningful look. Before she could say anything, however, a creaking sound from above caused her to look up. Without warning, a large round object plummeted towards the shocked pair of performers. A piercing scream flooded the stage as the two young women stared in horror. A deafening smash pierced the tense silence like a knife. Luckily, the object (which turned out to be one of the suspended gas-lamps) had missed striking Amandine's shoulder by mere inches.

Several stagehands and other performers rushed to the girls' sides. "Are you alright?" Madame Giry was staring at both of them with wide eyes full of worry. Amandine glanced upwards, towards where the lamp once hung. She saw no one. "I'm fine… just _shocked_, that's all…" With shaking legs, she rose slowly from her crouched position to smooth her skirts. She turned to face Meg, who was still sitting on the ground, frozen in shock. "I'm sure it was just an accident." Amandine flashed her a reassuring smile. "We can talk later, Meg. I need to go lie down for a minute." Feeling many pairs of curious eyes on her, Amandine retreated to her dressing room, to think. Something didn't feel right.

The moment the door to her room opened, she felt an instant chill. Hesitantly closing the door behind her, she took a few steps forward before noticing a small slip of paper propped up on her writing desk. Her hands were quaking as she held the note to the light. The paper fell from her grasp the moment she read its words.

_I would advise you to take better notice of_

_my warnings in the future, Mademoiselle. _

_Next time, I will be sure not to miss._

**XXXXXX**

Amandine's fear and worry about the mysterious Opera Ghost's constant surveillance were made apparent during the next day's rehearsal. Her eyes were almost constantly darting toward the rafters, searching for any signs of movement. On a few occasions, she had thrown everyone off-course by starting or gasping at the movement of a stagehand or swaying curtain. Though she blamed her anxiety on the previous day's 'accident', she was sure by the look on Meg's bright young face that not everyone believed her lie.

Though Amandine could not see him, she could feel his eyes on her at all times. This 'Phantom' was truly an omnipresent being, always watching and waiting…the mere thought made her blood run cold. The added stress of her personal stalker combined with her lack of confidence led to a few near-panic attacks. Now she was certain. "Hannibal" would be performed in little over a week, and she was certainly not ready. There was _no way_ she could pull this off…without resorting to desperate measures. The very idea gave her a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, as if she were about to vomit…and yet she knew what must be done.

As she headed back to her room that night, the idea no longer seemed as frightful as it had earlier that day. In truth, both her performance _and_ her book depended on it. With her stomach still twisting itself into knots, Amandine waited for several hours, until she was certain that the majority of her fellow performers had fallen asleep. After checking the hall for signs of life, she once again closed the door quietly and approached the large mirror with confidence.

Breathing deeply, she lifted her fist and rapped lightly on the smooth surface. She stood there, breathless, for several minutes, but heard nothing. With a sigh of frustration, she began searching the edges of the mirror for whatever secret mechanism it had been opened with, but her efforts were fruitless. Amandine finally let out an exasperated groan before banging her fists angrily against the glass, shouting for the strange masked man. "I know you're there! Come out right now! I need to speak with you!" Once again, she received no reply. She _had_ to find some way to contact him! Her fists kneaded into her forehead as she strode away from the mirror, pacing back and forth.

She was so caught-up in her frustration that she failed to notice a familiar clicking sound from behind her. Without warning, she was seized from behind once again, her startled gasp muffled by the same leather-clad hand. The same entrancing voice hissed sharply in her ear.

"Were you trying to wake the entire city of Paris, mademoiselle? I would be quite surprised if you had not." He paused as she shook her head slowly, trying to speak against his glove. "You indicated that you wished to speak with me… do make it quick, my dear. I was rather busy when you called."

Slowly he removed his hand from her now-dry lips, but kept a firm grasp on her waist and shoulders. Amandine tried to relax her body, but found herself unable to do so. She could feel his every muscle behind her…smell the leather of his gloves…hear the soft rhythm of his breathing. It was too much for her to take. Her eyes closed and she allowed herself a deep sigh before finding her voice.

I need…your help." She said it in barely a whisper and was unsure of whether or not he had heard her. His soft chuckle of amusement told her he had. "And why, may I ask, would you desire the assistance of the Opera Ghost? Surely you know my past… or have learned it yourself through your insolent prying." The last few words were spit out angrily. Amandine knew it was not wise to anger this man. "I know it well, monsieur." She licked her cracked lips before continuing. "But I know that you are the only one who can teach me. My voice…I'm not ready to perform. I need someone to train me…someone who can work wonders…someone who can make me sing like…like…_her._" Amandine regretted those words the moment they left her lips.

His right hand was instantly wrapped around her slender neck, squeezing with a vice-grip. "I thought I warned you not to bring back the past, mademoiselle. You undoubtedly know what I'm capable of, but I've always promised myself never to kill a woman…though I've been considering revising that rule as of late…" Amandine's breath was quickly leaving her lungs as his grip became tighter, certainly bruising her tender skin. Desperate for a way to save herself, she kicked out behind her, finding her foot in contact with his knee.

To her great relief, he stumbled backwards, releasing her. Amandine rushed towards the door before turning back, staring at the man who had just made an attempt on her life. He stood before her, panting slightly and staring at her with both anger and amusement in his golden eyes. He was quite tall, certainly over six feet, with long slender legs and strong masculine arms. He was dressed impeccably in beautiful, rich evening-attire. The clothes were filled out quite nicely by his muscular frame. His mask gleamed in the low candlelight and his visible features were formed in a slight smirk. The left side of his face was truly a beautiful sight to behold. Though the room was somewhat dim, she could see his strong jaw line and perfectly sculpted nose…but it was the amazing passion in his eyes which pulled her right in. For a moment, Amandine completely forgot that she was staring at the Phantom of the Opera…a man who had killed many…and almost did the same to her!

When he began approaching her again, she remembered what had just occurred. "I'll scream," she said with confidence. "They'll come running…and they'll find you…kill me, if you want… even if I don't scream, they'll still know…" He had stopped moving. It was all she could do to suppress a grin as a flicker of fear flashed across his face. "You don't think they know whose room this used to be?" _"YOU IDIOT!"_ she inwardly cringed at mentioning Christine again…but his reaction was not the same as last time.

The Phantom stood in the same spot, still staring with the same look of amusement and rage. He did not speak, as if expecting her to continue. She did. "Here's my proposition. You teach me how to sing, and I won't tell anyone I know you're still here." She paused, looking for a reaction. He remained motionless while she went on. "I'm aware what could happen if I'm alone with you, but I'm willing to take the chance. You know as well as I that the death or disappearance of another chorus girl would be highly suspicious." She decided to stop there and give him a chance to speak. It was a few moments before he did.

"I underestimated your cleverness, my dear… I must say, I'm impressed. It would be quite easy to simply snap your neck where you're standing…yet I daresay your suspicions may be correct…" He stopped speaking. Amandine's heart raced as she waited for his answer. The Opera Ghost finally lifted his eyes to meet hers. "I suppose I don't have much of a choice in the matter, do I? Though if you keep poking your nose into my affairs, I just may be forced to take your life after all."

A sense of both relief and dread seemed to hit Amandine all at once. She was finally getting her chance…to be a great singer…and to learn all she could about this masked man. "So…it's settled then? Meet me here, tomorrow night…the same time…?" she ended her sentence as a question, awaiting his approval. "Don't sound so anxious, my dear." He smirked, "I assure you, this will not be easy…or pleasurable…for either of us." And suddenly, without another word or backward glance, he retreated into the still-open mirror and closed it with yet another soft click.

As she sat on her bed and began blowing out candles, a shockwave shot through Amandine's body, as if she had just realized the deal which had been struck. Her heart beat a violent tattoo in her chest... a combination of her anxiety, her fear…and, dare she say it?...the thrill of being so close to that dangerous, seductive man… Whatever happened, one thing was certain: Her life would never be the same. Amandine threw her head back into her pillows and stared up at the ceiling. _"What am I getting myself into…?"_

_A/N: Liked it? I hope so! I know I'm moving KINDA fast, but there's still LOTS to come! Please review! Thanks so much!_

_-Amanda_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: So sorry for not updating in a while! My life has been pretty hectic lately… my best friend is moving to Montana in two weeks (I live in Maine! cries ) so we've been spending pretty much every waking moment together to make up for lost time… then my other best friend from Massachusetts came to visit me for TEN DAYS, so that set me back too… I DID NOT FORGET THIS STORY AND I NEVER WILL! So if it takes me a few weeks to update (which I promise WON'T happen that often) it's most likely due to real-life issues getting in the way._

_I can't forget to thank my totally awesome readers for leaving such kind reviews! I love you guys! You really make my day! Now let's go see what's going on with Amandine and Erik… muahahahahaha_

**Chapter Four**

Amandine was more distracted than ever during the next day's rehearsals. The hours seemed to drag by like years as she waited in anticipation for her lessons with the Opera Ghost. As the day wore on, Amandine found her confidence from the night before slipping away. Was this really a wise decision? How could she be certain this would be of benefit? What if he tried to harm her? Could her screams be heard so far below the opera house? "Mademoiselle Laroque!" the girl jumped with a start at the shrill sound of her name. The conductor tapped his baton anxiously against his music stand. "_Focus_, mademoiselle." He let out an exasperated sigh as Amandine felt many pairs of eyes burning into her back. How long had he been calling her? "My apologies, monsieur." She murmured, her cheeks the same shade of crimson as the gown she wore.

**XXXXXX**

"Amandine!" She glanced over her shoulder to see the small figure of Meg Giry fighting her way through the crowd. After finally making her way towards her friend, the ballerina paused to catch her breath. After a brief pause, she continued. "Amandine, are you alright?" her azure eyes were glazed with worry. "You seemed so…_lost_ today… What's troubling you?" A small, reassuring smile found its way to Amandine's lips. "I'm fine, Meg… I'm just anxious, that's all." She failed to mention _what_ she was anxious about. The look that crossed Meg's face proved just how observant she was; she knew her friend was hiding something.

"I'm worried about you..." Meg's eyes drifted temporarily towards her mother, who appeared to be lecturing a ballerina on proper posture. When Meg continued, her voice came out as a sharp whisper. "Don't play stupid with me, Amandine. You know as well as I what happened in that room… Lord knows why you had to choose _that_ one..." Her eyes hardened as they passed over Amandine's shocked visage. Meg's voice softened slightly, but she continued to whisper. "I'm frightened, Amandine. I don't want anything to happen to you." Empty silence came between them after Meg finished speaking. Not yet wanting to reveal her secret, Amandine chose her words carefully when she decided to speak.

"Meg, I swear to you- I'm _fine_, really. Just nerves, that's all. Don't worry about me." She smiled warmly and set a small hand upon her friend's shoulder. After a few moments, her smile was returned. "Alright, I believe you…but remember- I'm always here if you need to someone to talk to." Amandine widened her smile, glad to have handled the situation with such ease. "I know Meg. Thank you." With a final comforting squeeze of the girl's shoulder, Amandine made her way back to her room, both anxious and apprehensive.

**XXXXXX**

The silence in the room hung thick in the air, like fog. Amandine sat on the bed for what seemed like an eternity, staring nervously around the room. Though she had lit several candles, the room still seemed strangely dark and lonely, the shadows cast by the flickering flames dancing about her. Feeling desperate for some sort of movement, Amandine lifted herself off the bed and approached her vanity table. Though unsure of _why_ she did this, she found herself nervously pinning back her wild hair and applying yet another layer of rouge to her cheeks and lips. Smoothing her skirts, she rose once again to inspect her appearance in the large looking glass. "I suppose it will do." She muttered, glancing at herself from several angles. Too distracted to notice the soft thud of approaching footsteps, a small shriek escaped her lips as the mirror abruptly slid open, a dark figure emerging from the shadows.

Before her stood her Phantom, looking as menacing as ever. Amandine's breath caught in her throat as he approached her suddenly. "I thought it would not be necessary to gag you, but it appears I was mistaken." A hint of a smirk played across his lips. Amandine shook her head slowly. "No, monsieur. Forgive me, I did not hear you approaching… I was distracted." A hint of laughter colored his next words. "Distracted? With your appearance, I presume. Vain _and_ inattentive. _Marvelous_." Hot anger welled-up inside Amandine, but she knew it would be unwise to bicker with this man. Without another word, the Phantom turned his back and retreated through the mirror. Amandine presumed she was expected to follow. With a final backward glance, she stepped through the doorway and slid the mirror shut behind her with the familiar click.

The sight of the long, torch-lined stone passageway was a complete shock to Amandine. It seemed impossible for such a large and strangely beautiful place to go so long without being discovered. This man must certainly be skilled to remain hidden for so many years. Keeping this thought in mind, she followed him silently for what seemed like hours. Never once did he make a sound or even look back to make sure she was behind him. It was not until they had reached the bottom of a long and winding staircase that he even acknowledged her presence.

They had reached a shimmering underground lake, though had she not known any better, Amandine could have sworn it was an ocean. She could not even see to the other side. Wordlessly, her companion turned around and offered her a single gloved hand, gesturing towards a small black boat with the other. With only a moment's hesitation, Amandine grasped his hand lightly and allowed him to help her into the small boat before entering it himself. "Thank you" she murmured, though it was unclear whether or not he heard her. She did not speak again as they began the journey across the lake towards what Amandine assumed to be this man's home.

It seemed like mere moments later when they finally reached the other shore. Once again, the masked man held out his hand for Amandine to take, but this time she did not hesitate. The Phantom's home was most definitely not what Amandine had expected. The shore area appeared to serve as a music/sitting room with a short set of carved stone stairs leading toward an open hallway lined with doors. Though his home appeared to be carved out of the stone itself, it was still beautiful. The walls were lined with exquisite paintings and a sea of candles lit the entire home, their ornate gold holders glowing in the soft light. It was truly breathtaking to behold. "Did you do this?" Amandine asked breathlessly. "Yes." His reply was short and snappy. "I am an architect." Amandine stared in amazement as her companion removed his cloak and hung it upon a tall oak hanger which sat in the corner. "It's beautiful." She whispered. He did not reply.

Amandine followed him over to the highlight of the room- A beautiful organ with gleaming keys and a set of flawless pipes. He took a seat and gestured for her to stand beside him. She noticed that the music from "Hannibal" had already been set out. "Just a moment," said Amandine suddenly before he could give her further instructions. "Forgive me, monsieur, but would it not be proper for one to know the name of their instructor? Surely even the infamous Opera Ghost has a name." She smirked slightly, though shocked at her own daring. How could she speak so casually to such a man? He glanced at her for several moments without replying. "My name is Erik." He finally muttered. "Erik…" Amandine echoed. "Such a lovely name." As expected, he ignored her comment. "Let us start with a few scales." Erik struck a note and paused before nodding, and indication that she should begin to sing.

Before Amandine could even hit the top note, he stopped playing and sighed in frustration. "What's wrong?" she asked suddenly. Amandine had thought it was going well, but Erik obviously did not. "Your breathing." He replied. "You need to breathe from your diaphragm! Have you been taught nothing?" Erik approached her and began to reach out his hand before pausing mid-movement, his eyes pools of uncertainty. Amandine took a deep breath. He was close enough to touch her. Erik shook his head slightly and returned to his seat before the organ. "Try again." They did the same scale three more times, each time stopping short due to her improper breathing. Amandine's patience was wearing thin. "Well then, Erik," she paused, secretly savoring the sound of his name on her lips, "Why don't you show me the proper way to do it? It is obvious you are far more experienced."

Erik once again rose from his seat and approached her, yet he hesitated once again before stepping behind her and placing one hand on her chest, right above her breasts, and the other on her stomach, level with her navel. Amandine could feel how tense his hands were, yet she did not understand why; He seemed to have no problem holding her in such a way when threatening her life. Though she admittedly enjoyed the feeling of his touch, Amandine found herself strangely calm and at ease. "You're breathing too much from here." He patted her chest gently with a leather-clad hand. "Your breath should come from deep within your diaphragm, like this." He took an exceptionally deep breath behind her, pressing his hand to her stomach as he did so. She could feel that the air had not entered his chest, but lower, in his diaphragm. Amandine did her best to imitate this and found herself inhaling more air that she ever had before. The breath felt stronger and deeper; much better for air control than the way she had been doing so previously. "Better." He murmured, moving away from her a bit too quickly. A long, slow breath escaped Amandine's lips as she watched Erik once again take his seat. "Again."

The final time Amandine performed the scale, he did not stop her.

**XXXXXX**

After singing through almost the entire first act, Amandine found it hard not to lose her place and simply let herself listen to that beautiful voice. As Erik sang the accompanying tenor parts, memories of the night of "Don Juan Triumphant" flooded Amandine's mind. His voice was truly a gift from God. When they finally reached the finale of the opening act, Erik stopped playing. "Better," He said for what must have been the hundredth time that night. "But your breathing is still in need of improvement." He paused before standing and glancing at a clock which sat on a nearby shelf. "The hour is growing late." Without another word, he approached the boat and held out his hand expectedly. Amandine followed and took it gently. Neither uttered a word during their return journey.

When they finally arrived at Amandine's mirror, Erik operated the mysterious mechanism and slid the glass pane aside, gesturing Amandine through. She glanced back after taking in the familiar rosy smell of her dressing room. "Goodnight, Erik." A gentle smile formed on her lips. He merely nodded his head in acknowledgement and turned his back on his new pupil. The mirror slid closed with the familiar "_click"_ and he was gone.

_A/N: Liked it? Hated it? Moving too fast? Too slow? Let me know! (But please, NO FLAMES) Chapter Five will be up soon! Thanks again, faithful readers!_

_-Amanda_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Hello, faithful readers! I'm baaaaaaack! Hehehehe Okay, before I start the story, let me say like, two things. One: Thanks SO much to my reviewers and fans! (Especially you Gerrydom Gals!) You guys inspire me! Second: In this chapter, things speed up a wee bit… I just thought you'd like to know that (Don't worry though… WAY more to come…) Anyways, on with the show! (Or story…whatever.)_

**Chapter 5**

The rest of the cast noticed a complete change in Amandine during the next day's rehearsal. She hit almost every note to pure perfection and her voice, for once, did not wear out after hours of strenuous exercises. Her fellow performers stared in awe at her nearly flawless performance of "Think of Me" and the conductor gave her a rare smile. Amandine did not fail to notice, however, that both Meg and the ballet mistress lacked the enthusiasm of the others. Quite the contrary, in fact… both eyed Amandine with suspicion and concern all throughout the evening's rehearsal. Amandine had enough knowledge to know that both Madame and Meg Giry were closely involved in the past occurrences between Erik and Christine. She could almost see the pieces fitting themselves together in their minds…but no matter what, she promised herself she would keep her lessons with Erik a secret.

When the young ballerina approached her after rehearsal, Amandine hurried off to her room, mumbling something about catching up on rest.

**XXXXXX **

For the next few days, every moment not spent at rehearsals or with Erik was used for writing. Amandine found the information and experiences she was gaining astounding. Her book – which she had decided on titling "The Opera Ghost" – was surely destined to be a complete success. As she wrote, however, a nagging voice in the depths of her mind sometimes plagued her with troubling thoughts. "_If this book is published, they'll know where to find Erik…he could be arrested…or even killed!" _Yet Amandine did her best to stay focused on her goal. _"How can I be sure they'd even bother looking for him? I'll publish it as a work of fiction, after all," _a second voice would reassure her, and she'd go on writing without a care.

**XXXXXX**

5 nights before the scheduled performance of "Hannibal", Amandine sat on the edge of her bed as usual, waiting for Erik's arrival. Their lessons had been going exceptionally well, difficult as they may have been. With each passing day, however, Amandine found herself more and more drawn to her teacher. His eyes…when they locked onto hers…it was as if she was being pulled by some magical force into those glittering golden depths. And his voice…Oh, God…how could she describe it? At times, when he would join her in a duet, she felt as if she had ascended the golden stairway to the skies, where a true Angel of Music called out to her, beckoning her into the beautiful light of Heaven itself. Lost in the memory of his intoxicating voice, Amandine failed to notice that the mirror had opened and Erik was now standing in the middle of her room, glancing at her strangely as she stared off into space.

"Amandine?" Erik's smooth voice snapped her back into reality. She jumped up from the bed, as if she had received some sort of a shock. "Erik!" Amandine cried, startled, "I didn't see you there!" The masked man smirked. "Obviously not." All day, Amandine had been having strange spells such as that…but surely they were nothing to worry about. Amandine sighed and stood up. "Well, Erik. I've been given a day off from rehearsals tomorrow…so perhaps we can keep our lesson a bit late tonight?" Erik appeared thoughtful for a moment. "We shall see." And, as usual, he turned away and soundlessly headed down the dark passageway. Amandine followed.

Though Amandine would occasionally instigate some small-talk during their lessons, it was very rare for either one of them to speak during their journey to his home. Amandine was not sure _why_, exactly, but she somehow liked it that way. Tonight, however, was one of those rare occasions. "That's the first time." She said suddenly, moments after Erik helped her into the large gondola. He stared at her for a moment, puzzled. "First time?" Amandine smiled at him as he sent the boat on its way, the water lapping lightly against the sides. "Yes… that's the first time since you've met me that you've used my proper name. It was quite unexpected." Erik did not return the smile. His voice was strangely cold when he spoke. "Forgive me, _Mademoiselle Laroque_. I assumed that we have been acquainted long enough to use our proper names, but I was obviously mistaken. Do not hesitate to call me 'Monsieur Le Fantome' if you wish." A pair of golden orbs gazed upon her with an icy stare. "You are mistaken, Erik." Amandine paused, "I would like, if you would not mind, for you to call me 'Amandine' more often… I must say, it sounds rather lovely on your lips." Amandine inwardly winced at her last comment. She had not meant to say it aloud. Erik did not reply. Perhaps he had not heard her.

They reached the other shore and began their lesson as usual, first starting with a few simple scales, before finally progressing to songs from the opera itself. Amandine vaguely noticed a strange lightness in her head as she sang…perhaps due to the fact that she had not slept the night before, as she had been writing nonstop since returning from her lesson. She tried to shrug it off and continue singing, yet the lightness gradually changed to dizziness. Midway through a solo, her voice stopped abruptly as she held her head, feeling faint. Her teacher rose quickly from his seat. "Amandine! Are you alright?" Suddenly the room swayed and Amandine felt herself falling. Erik's cry of alarm and outstretched hands were the last image she saw before everything turned to black.

**XXXXXX**

Her eyelids felt heavy as she groggily pried them open, staring at the room around her. She appeared to have ended up in a well-furnished bedroom with very little light, but exceedingly comfortable sheets. Amandine rose slowly from the bed, not sure of where she was or how long she had been asleep. She took a moment to gaze at the walls and furniture... beautiful paintings adorned the eggshell walls and all the furniture was beautifully carved and sculpted. What kind of place was this? It was only when a gentle yet haunting organ melody filled the air that she remembered – she was still at Erik's home. Like a moth drawn to the flame, Amandine opened the door and crept down the hallway, following the beautiful chords that reached her ears. She descended a set of stone stairs and found herself in the music room. Then she saw him, sitting at the organ, lost in the music. His hair was slightly ruffled and his shirt was undone…but she had never seen him look more handsome.

She approached Erik silently until she was standing next to him, her eyes marveling at the pure passion that lined his face. Only faltering on one note, Erik looked up at Amandine with a start, shocked at her arrival. He continued to play. "Are you feeling better, Amandine?" His eyes met hers. She smiled softly. "Much." Her eyes traveled down to the bench, which was long enough for two to sit on. Still feeling slightly weak from the night before, Amandine gingerly sat down next to her teacher. This time, Erik stopped playing completely. "No, no. Keep going. It's beautiful."

Amandine closed her eyes as the calming tones once again filled the air. Her head gently rested upon Erik's shoulder as the music, like a soothing lullaby, rocked her into a state of pure peace. She did not sleep, but she was able to rest her mind and simply forget about everything but the music…and the powerful man on whose shoulder her head now rested.Being so close to him...feeling the warmth of his body...she knew that this was where she truly belonged. The thought of her teacher made her smile as she descended closer and closer towards sleep. After what seemed like only moments, however, the music stopped abruptly. Amandine's eyes snapped open, meeting Erik's, which now gazed down at her, aghast. The expression on his face was one of pure shock, as if just now realizing she was there. Amandine lifted her head and stared up at him in confusion. He stood from the bench and headed towards the shore. "You should be getting back." He murmured. "They'll wonder where you are." What had happened? Surely he did not mind her closeness...he had made no objection before! Amandine was dumbfounded. Had she done something wrong? Was he angry with her? His pupil followed slowly to the boat, her mind a mass of confusion. She was so distracted that she almost failed to notice that, for the first time, he did not offer her his hand.

_A/N: Kind of a short chapter, I know…but there is more to come! Sorry it's taken so long for me to update this, but I just got my FIRST job ever (at Build-A-Bear) so I've been pretty busy with that. But never fear… A chapter will ALWAYS come, eventually! Hehehe! Don't forget to review! That's what keeps me going!_

_-Amanda_


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